One Afternoon
by TT-5
Summary: What would happen if Milner's bad leg gave him trouble one afternoon at work? Maybe something like this.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Well I thought I'd give it another go and LauraRaposa kindly agreed to edit another Foyle's War story for me so here we are. I hope you like it and will leave a review to let me know what you think.

As always I own nothing but my own imagination and any mistakes are mine :)

Chapter 1

Detective Sergeant Paul Milner took a step - and immediately wished he hadn't - as a white-hot pain shot up through his left leg that robbed him of breath. He reached out to steady himself against the hallway's wall to take the weight off his bad leg. And closing his eyes Milner tried to remember how to breathe.

He was so absorbed in this seemingly innocuous task that it was over a minute before he heard a familiar voice call out his name. It finally registered with him that the person was his boss, Detective Chief Superintendent Christopher Foyle.

Minutes before, he and Foyle had been walking together down the hallway of Hastings Constabulary as they discussed a case. It took Foyle a few steps to realize that Milner was no longer at his shoulder. He turned and saw the younger detective's gray face pinched in pain as he leaned against a wall.

"Milner, are you alright?" He got no response even though he stood directly in front of his sergeant. Foyle's frown deepened, and just as he reached a hand to touch Milner's shoulder, the detective appeared to awaken from his stupor.

"Sir," asked Milner, his voice breathless as if he had just run a race. Foyle didn't need to rely on his career as a detective to hear the pain the single word contained.

"You alright Paul?" The DCS felt foolish as he asked the question since any schoolboy would be able to tell he wasn't. But he also felt he owed his sergeant the respect of being allowed to answer for himself.

Milner nodded and swallowed hard. The pain seemed to be the only thing his brain would register and he had to fight to organize his thoughts into what he hoped was a coherent order.

"Yes, Sir," he finally managed after what felt like an eternity.

"You're a bloody liar, Milner," said Foyle, as he stared into the sergeant's eyes with his trademark eyebrow raised and teeth secured to his inner cheek.

Milner struggled again against the fog in his brain. "I mean I will be, Sir. Just need a minute…" He trailed off as another throb from his leg blocked out whatever he'd been about to say next. _Bugger all! It hadn't hurt like this in weeks_.

Because he had closed his eyes against the pain, Milner missed the unguarded look of concern that crossed Foyle's face. But he did feel the firm hand that suddenly gripped his elbow to steady him as he swayed slightly.

It quickly became apparent to Foyle that what Milner needed was to sit down, and, quite possibly, to go home for the rest of the day. He knew the younger man would object to being sent home, so he addressed the most pressing need first.

"I think we'd best get you along to the office." The DCS tried to keep his tone casual but the pallor of Milner's face, and the shallowness of his breathing, made it clear that the current situation was anything but usual.

Milner nodded somewhat distractedly as he tried to get his breathing under control.

"Err, right, should I just take your left side then?" asked Foyle.

The uncertainty in his boss' voice was so foreign that if he hadn't felt quite so wretched it would have made Milner smile. As it was he barely managed another mute nod and felt Foyle's arm wrap around his waist.

Milner closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he gripped Foyle's shoulder tightly with his left hand. He took an experimental hop forward then managed another two hops before he had to stop to catch his breath.

Foyle frowned as he watched Milner's jaw tighten and felt the raggedness of his breathing. He was about to suggest that he go to grab Milner's cane when Superintendent Hugh Reid appeared in the corridor.

Reid looked startled at the sight of Milner leaning heavily against the wall with Foyle adding support to his left side. The Superintendent quickened his pace but bit back his urge to call out to the men. Milner was a very private man and although everyone in the station knew about his leg, Reid also knew that Milner did his best to avoid bring it up.

As Reid got closer, he felt his worry grow. Milner was gray while the frown on Foyle's face clearly communicated his old friend's concern for his sergeant.

The Super paused unsure of how best to begin, and was saved from this awkwardness by Foyle who looked up and forced a tense smile. "Hallo, Hugh." Milner's eyes flew open and he blushed slightly.

"Gentlemen," Reid replied. He tried to keep his voice light and purposefully ignored Milner's embarrassment. "I was just on my way to the kitchen for a cuppa. Seeing as we are all going the same way, might I give you a hand?"

There was a brief awkward pause then Foyle decided to take matters into his own hands. "What do you say, Sergeant? I could certainly do with a cup of tea."

Milner closed his eyes and then nodded briefly. _I hate to need help to do something as simple as walk down the hallway but I don't know how much farther I can get since this pain shows no sign of letting up._

"Right, so what's the best way to do this?" Reid's question broke through Milner's contemplation and he looked up to find a smile on the Super's face.

It took the three men a bit to maneuver between Milner's office door, but they managed to lower the distressed detective into his chair in less time than Milner thought possible.

Milner closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief as some of the pain eased. As he reveled in being seated, Milner missed the look that Foyle and Reid exchanged but he did register the sound of the door being closed quietly a minute later.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews for the first chapter! Really made my day! Thanks also to LauraRaposa for editing this chapter for me.

As always I own nothing but my own imagination and I look forward to hearing what you think :)

Chapter 2

After about 10 minutes, Milner opened his eyes and was surprised to find DCS Foyle sitting quietly in a chair in front of his desk.

"Sir?" asked Milner.

"Any better, Paul?" asked Foyle with worry in his voice. Milner ducked his head slightly, touched by the older man's concern.

"Yes, Sir." He felt Foyle's steady gaze and looked up and forced a smile. "Really, Sir, it's just…" Whatever assurance Milner had been about to make was cut off by a throb of pain that stole his breath.

"Shall I call a doctor?"

Milner shook his head, jaw clenched tightly against the pain. "No, Sir. This does happen from time to time. They warned me it would. Nothing for the doctor to do." The reply was choppy, interrupted by Milner's ragged breathing. Foyle's frown deepened.

"So what do we do then?" He hated to see the younger man in this much pain but also he had no idea what he could do to help.

"Just wait, it will pass it always does. You don't have to stay, Sir. I'll be alright."

Foyle frowned as he tried to work out if Milner meant he would like to be alone or if he believed Foyle would want to leave and was giving him a polite excuse to do so. He watched the younger man shift in his chair to find a more comfortable position. Then frowned as a thought occurred to him. _Surely he would be more comfortable with his prosthetic off. Is that why he wants me to leave?_

Foyle cleared his throat to ask: "Wouldn't it be best if you, err, removed your prosthetic? I can leave if you prefer and I'll make sure you aren't disturbed but if it will help …" He trailed off, unsure if he had overstepped his bounds as a flush crept up Milner's neck.

The silence stretched and Foyle fidgeted slightly with his collar. "I'm sorry, Milner, I…."

"No, no, Sir, you are quite right. It's just…" Milner paused and looked down at his lap before he mumbled, "It's, um, rather hard to take off by myself when it's like this." He spoke very quickly, and by the time he had finished he was red-faced and avoiding his boss' gaze.

Foyle chewed his lip for a minute as he tried to work out how best to respond. "Right, well, why don't I go and see how Reid's getting along with the tea, and then we can go from there?"

Foyle sensed that Milner needed a minute alone to consider his boss' help with such a private act. Moreover, it would make the prosthetic removal more awkward if Hugh were to walk in with tea in the middle of it.

Milner just nodded, eyes down, still embarrassed by his confession. Foyle must have noticed because he paused at the door and said quietly, "You were quite right to tell me, Paul. We'll sort this out after a cup of tea, alright?"

There was no pity in Foyle's voice just his customary compassion and honesty, and Milner felt his shoulders relax slightly in relief. "Yes, thank you, Sir."

Foyle nodded once and then stepped out into the hall and closed the door quietly behind him. He ran a hand over his face, suddenly relieved that his driver, Samantha Stewart, was back home in Lyminster this week to attend a friend's wedding. As well intentioned, brave and practical as she always was, Sam's energy could exhaust those around her. Besides, Milner would have been more embarrassed if Sam saw him falter in the hallway.

The absence of a driver over the past few days forced he and Milner to hoof it through the streets of Hastings. And while the exercise hadn't bothered Foyle, he suspected the situation might be the cause of Milner's discomfort.

Foyle cursed himself for his lack of consideration towards his sergeant. Granted, he did most of the legwork, so to speak, but Milner had been out and about more than usual this week.

_I must figure out how I can limit Paul's physical exertion without making him feel his role was being diminished because of his injury._

He ran a hand through his hair, and then headed off towards the station's little kitchen to see about that tea.

"How is he, Christopher?" Reid asked as he poured water from the kettle into the teapot. Hugh kept his voice low and the concern was evident.

Foyle ran a hand across his forehead. "Much the same. You've put sugar in his tea?"

Reid nodded. "Yes, two spoonfuls in his. We'll go spare. Have you sent for a doctor?"

Foyle shook his head. "No, apparently it wouldn't help. He says this happens from time to time. Nothing to do but wait."

"Christ," hissed Reid. Foyle wasn't the only one who was sickened by how much Milner's war injury plagued the poor man.

"Agreed," whispered Foyle. "Would you kindly bring the tea along to the office? I need to grab a bowl of warm water and a towel."

Reid nodded and quickly gathered the mugs while Foyle began to fill an enamel bowl with water and seek out a clean towel in the drawers. Thus laden, the two men headed back toward Milner's office.

Foyle's knock was answered by a somewhat strained "Yes." But when he opened the door, the DCS was pleased to see that Milner looked a bit more composed.

Reid walked straight over to the desk and set down two cups of tea. He placed the sweetened one closest to Milner with a simple, "There you are."

Milner reached for the cup and took a sip of the strong, sweet brew. "Thank you, Sir," he said to the Super with a weak smile.

Reid smiled back. "Not at all, Sergeant, now I'd best get back to work. The Assistant Commissioner is breathing down my neck for the monthly report and not all of my sergeants are as diligent about turning in legible reports as you are." Reid shook his head in mock despair - that got another small smile out of Milner - before he turned toward the door with a nod to Foyle.

Foyle nodded back. "Please tell the desk sergeant we aren't to be disturbed, won't you?"

Reid nodded and quietly let himself out of the room.

Foyle placed the bowl of water on the corner of the desk before he sat down and reached for his mug of tea. He studied Milner surreptitiously over the edge of his mug and was pleased to see that some of the pain lines appeared to have weakened.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Wow! Thank you all so much for the reviews! I am glad that you are enjoying the story and really appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think.

All editing credit goes to LauraRaposa and any mistakes are mine. The characters belong to the creators and the actors who portray them. I only own my imagination.

Chapter 3

They drank their tea in silence. Milner still tried to manage the pain while Foyle tried to determine how best to address the task ahead of him. He had applied and changed a few field dressings in his day but that was over 20 years ago and under very different circumstances.

For this wasn't some lad in a trench, it was his sergeant, a man he had come to respect and care about, and he didn't want this situation to make things awkward between them. He knew he needed to be as businesslike as possible but that was complicated by the fact that he had no earthly idea what he was supposed to do.

Once he saw that they were both finished with tea, Foyle cleared his throat. "Right, well, shall we, err, get on with it?"

Milner took a deep breath and nodded as he reached down to fumble with his pant leg. "I think I can manage, Sir, I mean if you'd rather not…"

Foyle shook his head and stood. He removed his jacket, hung it up on the back of the chair, unclasped his cufflinks and rolled up his shirtsleeves. "Nonsense, Milner. Now, how can I help?"

He rounded the desk, placed the bowl of water down on the floor and, for the first time, took in the sight of the piece of aluminum that made up the lower half of his sergeant's leg. He tore his gaze away and looked up at Milner, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

Milner blushed slightly but met his gaze. "Well, there are buckles just here," he gestured to the sides of his leg, "and another at the back. You've got to undo those and then it just comes off."

Foyle nodded and knelt in front of Milner's chair, he closed his eyes briefly and then reached for the first buckle. He noticed Milner was griping the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles were starting to turn white. Foyle fiddled with the buckle for a minute before he released it. He moved on to the next one and released it carefully as well.

Foyle glanced up at Milner who had not moved during the process, but still gripped the arms of his chair. "Can you slide forward a bit? That it," he said as he reached under Milner's leg and carefully unfastened the final buckle.

"Right, so shall I just pull it off then?"

Milner nodded tightly and Foyle turned his attention to removal of the aluminum prosthetic. He took his time and worked carefully but he still heard the hitches in Milner's breathing as the lower part of his leg was freed. To Foyle the process seemed to take forever, but it was only two minutes before he carefully laid the prosthetic to one side.

Milner leaned his head back, released the arms of the chair and let out a sigh of relief. Foyle smiled slightly before he turned his attention back to Milner's leg. The stump attached to the prosthetic was swathed in bandages that clearly needed to be changed.

He bit his lip before he looked up at his sergeant. "Looks like you could do with some fresh bandages. Do you have more or shall I grab some from the first aid cupboard?"

"There are some in that drawer there, Sir," said Milner as he gestured to the second drawer in his desk.

"Ah, excellent," said the DCS as he picked through the drawer's supply of bandages, gauze and ointment. "Shouldn't take long then."

Foyle carefully began to remove the soiled bandages. He was glad he thought to fetch the warm water and towel since the bandages were crusty in some places and required a soak before Foyle could unwrap them. He worked silently with his eyes focused on his task as his patient gazed down at him with gratitude.

Not since he'd been in hospital had Milner had someone take care of him like this. His wife, Jane, had tried once when he first came home from hospital but she had barely been able to help him out of his prosthetic before she fled the room in tears. The sight of his wound clearly was too much for her.

Milner had been convinced at the time that it was his fault but now he wasn't so sure_. If DCS Foyle, who had no real reason to take care of him like this, could do so with such efficiency and compassion then surely_ _the woman who vowed to care for him 'in sickness and in health' should be able to do the same._

_Perhaps its his time in the Army during the Great War or his many years in the police force that allows Mr. Foyle to deal with my injury so calmly. If so, is it unfair of me to expect Jane, who had led such a sheltered life before she married me, to be able to do the same? At least with Mr. Foyle I don't feel like this injury is some terrible burden that I must bear alone._

Milner closed his eyes and put his head back on his chair, happy to let someone else take care of things just this once.

Foyle winced at the sight of the raw skin and blisters that appeared as the last of the bandages were removed. He took a deep breath and set to cleaning the area as carefully as possible. Next, he removed the extra supplies from the drawer and doctored the blistered areas as best he could before he re-dressed the wound.

Foyle's first aid on Milner took about 15 minutes during which time the sergeant had not moved at all. When Foyle glanced up he understood why - the younger man was fast asleep. His chin rested against his chest, while his breathing was deep and even. Milner was clearly worn out by his painful afternoon.

Foyle smiled softly at the sight and quietly tided up. He disposed of the soiled bandages and returned the other supplies to the drawer before he rolled down his shirtsleeves and put his jacket back on. He paused for a minute to debate if he should wake Milner and see him home.

_His own bed would certainly be more comfortable than that chair. But it would probably be best to let the lad rest a little before I try to maneuver him out to the car. Besides, it was just after 3 p.m. now. If Milner slept until after 5 p.m. we wouldn't make such a spectacle of getting him outside._

Mind made up, Foyle quietly headed toward the door. He was halfway there when he spotted Milner's coat thrown over one of the chairs. He went to hang it on the coat rack, but stopped himself and instead crossed back to the desk and gently spread it over the sleeping man. This done the DCS gathered the enamel bowl, soiled towel and tea things and silently left the room.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks again for the reviews and to LauraRaposa for editing. Sorry it's so short, there is one more coming that is longer though. I only own my imagination :)

Chapter 4

Foyle crossed straight to the kitchen and spent the next 10 minutes in front of the sink doing the washing up. Next, he stopped at the front desk to ensure that the new duty sergeant understood that no one was to disturb DS Milner, and any calls that would normally transfer to Milner should be given to him.

Then, after some deliberation, he went and knocked on Reid's office door.

"Yes, come in," said Reid. "Ah, Christopher…"

The Superintendent waited until Foyle had closed the door before he asked, "How is he?"

Foyle sighed, and ran a hand over his forehead. "Asleep, thank God."

"That bad?"

"Not at all good," said Foyle as he returned to chewing his lip. "What time you off tonight?"

Reid looked at his watch. "I'd say in about an hour. Why?"

"Umm, I wonder if you'd be able to help me get Milner home. With Sam away I don't have a driver and he hasn't got his crutches…" He trailed off as he glanced up at his old friend.

They both knew there was other drivers who could help Foyle get Milner home. But that wasn't the point. Milner was likely to be less embarrassed if he exited the station with the assistance of the two men who had already helped him that afternoon.

Reid nodded, "Of course, Christopher. It's no trouble. I'll just ring Elaine and let her know."

Foyle smiled, "Thank you, Hugh."

"My pleasure. How long do you think it will be?"

"I'm not sure," said Foyle. "I'd rather thought I'd just let him sleep but if he's still out at half-five, I suppose we'll have to wake him."

Reid nodded. "And you'll come and get me when it's time?"

"Yes. I've left instructions with the desk sergeant that Milner isn't to be disturbed but I'll poke my head in from time to time in case he wakes up."

"Right, well I'd better get back to this damned report. As if I care about how many stray dogs we found last month!"

Foyle smiled and shook his head. He had been subjected to Hugh's grousing since they were constables on the beat in Bexhill. And like then, Foyle couldn't resist a little dig. "Now, that's some real police work, Superintendent."

"Oh, shove off!" There was nothing but years of friendship behind either comment and the two men smiled at each other for a minute before Foyle left the office and Reid returned to his stray dog report.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Well this is it! Thanks for all the reviews and to LauraRaposa for editing for me.

Chapter 5

Milner woke with a start and looked around to get his bearings. He was in a chair, the coat that had been tucked around his shoulders had slid down when he sat up but he recognized it as his own. The next thing he saw was his prosthetic lying beside his chair and then it all came back – the incident in the hallway, the pain and his unlikely Florence Nightingale, Mr. Foyle.

Milner frowned, ran a hand over his face and then glanced down at his stump to look at his boss' impressive first aid job. He felt a surge of embarrassment that his superior had been the one to look after him.

_I offered him a way out, but Mr. Foyle insisted he stay and take care of my leg. He had hardly blinked when he saw the prosthetic or what was left of my leg. Maybe Jane's reaction to the injury was abnormal. Mr. Foyle has never minded, not when I was in hospital, not when I was on crutches, not the few times I've stumbled on calls only to feel Foyle's strong hands on my arm to steady me or help me up. And certainly not today when Mr. Foyle saw my battle scars from Trondheim._

Before he had time to consider this further, the man in question stuck his head around the door. "Ah, Milner. Glad to see you're awake."

"Yes. Hello, Sir."

"How are you feeling?" Foyle studied him carefully and was pleased to see that most of the pain lines seemed to have eased from Milner's face.

"Much, much better, Sir," Milner paused for a minute. He wanted to thank the older man but he really didn't know how to explain how much his actions had meant. "And thank you for, well, you know, all that."

"Ready to head home then," asked Foyle with what Sam called his upside-down smile.

Milner glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that it was nearly 5 p.m.

"Yes, Sir. Sorry I didn't realize it was so late. I didn't mean to fall asleep, especially not with everything that we needed to get done. I can certainly make up the time tomorrow."

Foyle held up a hand to stop Milner's self-recrimination. "Not to worry, Milner, nothing came up that can't be handled tomorrow. Now, why don't you gather your things while I grab my hat and coat? Superintendent Reid has offered to run us both home in his car."

"Very kind of him, Sir. I'll be ready to go in a few minutes."

Foyle nodded. "Good. I'll be back shortly." He pivoted, left the room and headed for Reid's office.

Foyle knocked and waited for Reid to call out, "Yes," before he pushed the door open.

"Had enough of those stray dogs yet?"

Reid looked up with a sigh. "Hours ago. You ready to go then?"

"Yes, Milner's up, and I just need to get my things."

"Excellent! Give me a minute to put away all this nonsense and I'll meet you at his office."

Five minutes later DCS Foyle and Superintendent Reid were assisting Detective Sergeant Milner out to the car.

Milner had tried to protest at first but he had been forced to concede that even with his cane, he wasn't going to be able to make it to the car unless he put on his prosthetic. He loathed the thought of that for although the pain had decreased he knew it would flare up again the moment the buckles were in place.

He instead chose to hop along propped up between Foyle and Reid as a flush burned at his neck. He waited for the stares and looks of pity, but it appeared that he had done his colleagues a disservice to think that they would respond in such a way.

Being that it was a little after 5 p.m. most of the day coppers had gone home but those that they passed and those working the night shift barely blinked as they said good evening to the three men.

_Milner had never felt more grateful to be a policeman here in Hastings than he did in that moment when he realized that they honestly didn't care about his leg. They didn't define him by his injury but rather by his ability and his character. Milner felt a swell of gratitude toward everyone at the station, especially to the man currently supporting his right side. He was fully aware that without Foyle's insistence and support he might still be lying around in hospital weaving raffia baskets._

They were only a few minutes from the station when Foyle spoke up. "Hugh, could we possibly stop at the chippy on the way? I don't really feel like cooking this evening. It would only take a moment." He twisted in his seat to look back at his sergeant. "Would that be alright with you, Milner?"

Milner nodded. "Of course, Sir. I can't say I feel much like cooking this evening myself."

There was a slight pause at this open admission of his wife's absence and then Reid spoke up. "Alright, I'll stop but I expect a packet of chips for my trouble." Both his tone and his eyes teased, and Milner smiled, intrigued by this different side of his superiors.

Foyle sighed. "You always were a scrounger, Hugh." With a smile on his lips, Foyle glanced back at Milner. "I don't think one lift is suitable payment for a whole packet of chips, but if you agree to pick Milner and myself up tomorrow morning then you have a deal."

Reid laughed but agreed. "You drive a hard bargain, Christopher, but you're on. Now, off you go and make it snappy."

Foyle smiled again and climbed out of the car. Milner had been so absorbed in banter between the two men that he had completely missed the conspiratorial glance that had passed between them.

Milner was confused when a short while later, Foyle climbed back into car with three packages instead of the expected two and very surprised when he leaned around and handed one to him. "I got you a bit of cod. I hope that's alright."

Milner blinked at him for a few seconds. "That was very kind of you, Sir. But you didn't have to get me anything. How much to I owe you?"

He had already reached for his wallet but Foyle shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Milner. You can buy the first round the next time we go down to the pub, alright?"

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

Foyle just smiled, turned back to the front and began to make weekend fishing plans with Superintendent Reid.

Five minutes later when they reached Milner's house both men climbed out to help him inside and get him situated in the sitting room with his crutches. Foyle reminded his sergeant to be ready to be off at 8:15 the next morning. Of course, that assumed the Super was on time. Reid had objected to Foyle's implication, and the two men had left the house bickering back and forth like schoolboys.

Once they were gone, Milner leaned back in his chair and chuckled at the image of two of the most senior men at the station behaving like adolescents.

Before he dug into his fish 'n' chips, Milner closed his eyes to think over the events of the day. He knew he ought to feel humiliated by what had occurred but instead he felt oddly relieved. Today, his 'weakness' had been laid bare before one of the men he respected most as well as half the station. And instead of pity he had gotten support and kindness in return.

_I'm not embarrassed about today. In fact, I'm rather grateful for it._

His stomach rumbled and he reached for his crutches to head to the kitchen.

Y_es, I'm thankful for today…and some fish 'n' chips._

THE END


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